


Dying Breath

by CocoaSamurai45 (MoonyKat)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, S1E21
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonyKat/pseuds/CocoaSamurai45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants to give him this. Nothing for everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean wants to give him this. A chance. Sam has always wanted something better than hunting- this half-life where you don't really live at all. Sam was probably the only one who'd ever lived, really lived in their family. So he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't wait a single minute more than he has to, to rip open and give everything he has for someone he loves more than everything he ever will be.

He already knows that he won't have a future, so this is just like giving up nothing for everything, for Sam. His soul is in shreds and he doesn't think that he can go on knowing that every member of his little family- the family that he tried so very hard to keep together- is gone. He can't just go back to driving his dad's car, staying in shitty hotel rooms, watching shit TV and eating shitty food. Not without Sam. The only things that ever made all of it worth it were John and Sam. And then he lost John and Sam became his anchor. Sam who doesn't breathe anymore, Sam who doesn't bitch or hog the shower, Sam who doesn't smile or radiate that heat that had Dean clamoring for the A/C when they were kids and had to share a bed. Seeing Sam so cold and lifeless kills Dean. Everything good or noble, anything that was ever worth a damn about himself died with Sam. But he doesn't care about any of that. He just wants his little brother back.

So he doesn't hesitate, doesn't think twice about everything he might be ruining, everyone he could be letting down. What he does think about is how goddamn much he misses him. How annoying and guilt-ridden and fucking good Sam was. And still can be. If he just does this one little inconsequential thing like selling his soul. Ten years is all he needs to never be sad again. Ten years alive with his brother, with the only person he had, no, has left is all he needs to die in peace.

But when the crossroads demon only gives him one year, he does hesitate. Her eyes glimmer playfully, cruelly and he can feel tears burning his eyes. He should say no, because no way is this fair, no way should he only get a year when everyone else gets so much more. In his mind he sees that future of ten years worth of love and happiness dying and then he thinks of Sam, dead and never enjoying a minute of it. And Dean wants Sam to be happy, to live and see that everything isn't just fiery pain and fiery death and the endless hunt for fiery revenge-even if that doesn't include his big brother.

''Til the end of the world, little brother, 'til the end of the world. And into Hell if I have to.'

And he turns back around and seals his death with a kiss.

The end


	2. Not for Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The semi-sequel to Breathe the Dying Breath from Sam's angsty POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and the chapter before it are hella old, but I figure posting them here won't hurt :)

Sam sits, ears to the wind and his eyes out to sea as he lifts the empty beer bottle and chucks it into the crashing waves. Everything should feel different. The wind should be calm, the sea should be tumultuous and raging. 

Instead it's as if Dean Winchester never left. The only difference is the hollow lump of sadness in Sam's stomach, the itching burn at his eyes. But nothing has changed, nothing at all. For Sam alone the world seems harsher, more painful than before, but the sun still shines bright and birds still sing.

First there was grief. Dean is gone, Dean is dead, Dean is burning in Hell. Dean sold his soul so Sam could live. And how fucked up is that? How fucked up is burning in Hell for someone who should be dead? And how fucked up is it that Sam feels dead and the only thing that could make his existence mean anything, was Dean? Now none of this shit means anything. Hunting, the visions, and helping people-saving people- it doesn't mean anything.

Then came the fear. Sam cries and he rages, talks to no one for days and days until everything in him collapses under the weight of indecision and his own anger. What good is saving someone if it isn't Dean? What good is dying for someone who isn't Dean? 

Guilt and grief churn like fire in Sam's stomach, the beer tasting like copper in his mouth. It's Jess all over again. Only worse because Dean isn't there to reassure him, to take him out of his own head when the guilt and fear make it hard to even breathe.

Sam realizes that if he doesn't do something to stop it, he might just die from it. And Dean would have sacrificed everything for nothing. This thought only brings on more tears, silent, dry tears that wrack Sam's body and make him want to scream. But after he is done, he stands and he grabs Dean's keys (they will always be Dean's keys and Dean's car), the cold metal pressing into his rubbery fingers.

The car is dirty, weeks unwashed and left to stand against the elements making the once shiny exterior dark gray with filth. Sam ignores the grime and opens the driver's door, it creaks loudly and in his mind he sees Dean's unhappy frown at the state of his beautiful car. He slides behind the wheel and shuts the door. Instantly, everything Dean was, is right here all around him: the smell of fire and gasoline and gun oil, Dean's leather coat beside him on the leather bench. Grief and happiness and longing fill Sam, but he doesn't cry this time.

For the first time in three weeks, Sam smiles. And it hurts like hell, but it's a start. The map of southern Wisconsin rests beside him on top of Dean's coat and the roaring of the Impala is like a promise.

He grips the steering wheel with strong fingers. "To the end of the world, big brother. And into Hell if I have to."


End file.
